Miyamae Kanako's Plots to Kill Shidou Mariya
by moodyaura
Summary: UPDATED! I have had it! Six months of living with that temperamental, crossdressing, perverted transvestite and I am ready to give him a taste of his own medicine. That is, unless he finds out about this notebook first...Crap. MariyaxKanako
1. Risque Revenge

Rated T for mature themes. Read at your own discretion.

Fanfiction dot net removed my story because some reported me and I'm quite irritated.

I don't have the original files anymore, so this is me attempting to rewrite the whole thing. Sigh.

Nothing is the same, though the overall plot isn't changed. I can't stand trying to rewrite the same exact thing again (especially since I liked the original). I hope it's enjoyable.

Also, if anyone knows if this story has been plagiarized, can they please tell me where? I'm considering copying and pasting in that case. Like…a plagiarism of a plagiarism…or something.

Oh and I'll be using the existing characters (like Kanako's little sis) but…er…changing certain aspects about her. Or toning them down. A lot.

Intense math notes creds to Wikipedia.

* * *

_Miyamae Kanako. Class 2-A. _

_In__mathematics__a__**hyperbola**__is a curve, specifically a__smooth__curve that lies in a plane, which can be defined either by its geometric properties or by the kinds of equations for which it is the solution set. A hyperbola has two pieces, called__connected components__or branches, which are mirror images of each other and resembling two infinite__bows__. The hyperbola is one of the four kinds of__conic section__, formed by the intersection of a__plane__and a__cone__. The other conic sections are the__parabola__, the__ellipse__, and the__circle__(the circle is a special case of the ellipse). Which conic section is formed depends on the angle the plane makes with the axis of the cone, compared with the angle a line on the surface of the cone makes with the axis of the cone. If the angle between the plane and the axis is less than the angle between the line on the cone and the axis, or if the plane is parallel to the axis, then the conic is a hyperbola._

_Similar to a__parabola__, a hyperbola is an open curve, meaning that it continues indefinitely to infinity, rather than closing on itself as an__ellipse__does. A hyperbola consists of two disconnected__curves__called its__**arms**__or__**branches**__._

_The points on the two branches that are closest to each other are called their__vertices__, and the line segment connecting them is called the__transverse axis__or__major axis__, corresponding to the major diameter of an ellipse. The midpoint of the transverse axis is known as the hyperbola's__center__. The distance__a__from the center to each vertex is called the__semi-major axis__. Outside of the transverse axis but on the same line are the two__focal points (foci)__of the hyperbola. The line through these five points is one of the two principal axes of the hyperbola, the other being the__perpendicular bisector__of the transverse axis. The hyperbola has__mirror symmetry__about its principal axes, and is also symmetric under a 180° turn about its center._

_At large distances from the center, the hyperbola approaches two lines, its__asymptotes__, which intersect at the hyperbola's center. A hyperbola approaches its asymptotes arbitrarily closely as the distance from its center increases, but it never intersects them; however, a__degenerate hyperbola__consists only of its asymptotes. Consistent with the symmetry of the hyperbola, if the transverse axis is aligned with the__x__-axis of a__Cartesian coordinate system__, the slopes of the asymptotes are equal in magnitude but opposite in sign, ±__b__a__, where__b__a__×tan(θ) and where θ is the angle between the transverse axis and either asymptote. The distance__b__(not shown) is the length of the perpendicular segment from either Focus point to the asymptotes._

_A conjugate axis of length 2b, corresponding to the minor axis of an ellipse, is sometimes drawn on the non-transverse principal axis; its endpoints ±b lie on the minor axis at the height of the asymptotes over/under the hyperbola's vertices. Because of the minus sign in some of the formulas below, it is also called the imaginary axis of the hyperbola._

_If b = a, the angle 2θ between the asymptotes equals 90° and the hyperbola is said to be rectangular or equilateral. In this special case, the rectangle joining the four points on the asymptotes directly above and below the vertices is a square, since the lengths of its sides 2a =2b._

_ 5 pages of hardcore math later..._

_I think I have successfully deterred any readers from prying this far into these precious pages, though my hand is throbbing from all my hard work. Unfortunately I have a math test tomorrow and despite rewriting all this relevant material, I still cannot comprehend what a hyperbola is. Nevertheless, there are far more important matters to attend to._

_And now to reveal the true purpose of this notebook: _

_Miyamae Kanako's Plots to Kill Shidou Mariya! _

_My dear…err…I don't wish to call you Diary, since I'm no longer in middle school and Journal sounds a bit too bland for my tastes. How about…Death Note, like from the amazing anime series? It fits perfectly as this notebook's intent is to kill (just one person in this case.) Plus it sounds super cool! _

_So, my dear Death Note, you must be wondering why an innocent, virginal maiden like me is going through with such vindictive motives. The fault lies entirely with Shidou Mariya. Shidou Mariya—the bane of my existence; a wolf decked in the coats of a sweet lamb's fur. This self-perpetuating female is actually a he—yes, a __**he.**__ I met Mariya on my first day of Ame no Kisaki (which is an all girl's school just so you know) entranced by his charm and girlishness that beguiled his true devil-like personality. Shortly after, I stumbled upon his maid dressing Mariya up in a corset and what my keen eyes determined to be 32 B sized silicone breast pads. He forced me to be his roommate for the rest of my time in this school, so he can keep an eye on me in case I reveal his secret. _

_And now here I am, five months later, mentally, emotionally, physically scarred by the torture and trauma this brute has inflicted on me. I am the shiny-eyed damsel in distress, a delicate female trapped in the clutches of a clawed and fanged beast, waiting for a strong, hefty female that looks vaguely like Ryuuken-sama to come and rescue me from the pits of my despair. _

_All of my misery can disappear if Mariya just died! _

…_No, that was cruel. Do I really want Mariya to be gone from this world forever? Definitely not. I have experienced death of someone close to me before and I don't wish to go through it again. Mariya and I may not be the best of friends and we probably aren't even friends—actually, I'm pretty sure he despises my very existence—but I would never wish something so horrible on anyone._

_However, that doesn't cancel out a nice douse of good old fashioned torture and at this point, I'm more than willing to give Mariya a taste of his own medicine. And so: _

_Ways to Torture the Devil's Incarnate Who Happens to be Sharing My Room: _

_1. Replace his fancy, high end shampoo with bright green hair dye _

_2. Restyle his wig with a nice pair of sharp scissors while blindfolded _

_3. Throw out all his underwear and replace it with lacy, red thongs _

_4. Cut holes where his "boobs" and crotch go in his uniform _

_5. Constantly pull on his pigtails when he's not looking _

_6. Pay someone to smack his ass in the hallway (Maybe Matsurika?) _

_7. Emasculate him by publicly and loudly asking about his time of month _

_8. Send a huge gust of wind in his direction so his skirt flies up _

_9. Give Father Kanae a love letter written by Mariya _

_10. Pull off Mariya's wig in the hall—_

"Oi, what the hell are you doing?" a rough voice spoke at the doorway. Well, speak of the devil. In what I hoped to be a casual manner, I flipped to one of the first few pages of my Death Note and loosely twirled my pen around. Now that Mariya was inside the sanctuary of our room, he was anything but graceful. Brusque, harsh footsteps made their way towards me before long fingers snatched my precious notebook out of my clutches.

…Shit.

I felt myself pale, my heart literally stopping as his eyes quickly scanned my so-called notes. "St-studying," I stammered out, reaching for my notebook, "I have a test tomorrow so I'd like it back." My fingertips brushed the soft cover before he snatched it farther away from me. Thanks to that miscalculation, I fell off the bed and crashed onto the carpet floor in a heap by Mariya's feet. Groaning, I looked up and saw a deep frown cross his features.

My life flashed before my eyes.

So long Dad, little Sis. It was nice knowing you. I'll write to you from Heaven.

His voice was sharp, filling me with dread to the very core. "What is this?" he snapped, his index finger pointing to the middle of a page. Immediately I scrambled onto my knees, bowing so quickly my forehead practically slammed into the ground.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I cried, "I didn't mean it, any of it. Have mercy on me reincarnation of Beelzebub's soul and I'll sacrifice five healthy piglets at your altar." There was a moment of complete silence afterwards. Noticing that I was still very alive, I slowly peered upwards only to find Mariya scribbling at something in my notebook with my pen.

He dropped both items onto my bed and walked over to his side of the room, not before giving me a strange look over his shoulder. "I don't know what nonsense you're sprouting at the moment or what drugs you've been taking, but all your notes are wrong," he said, pulling off his wig. Mariya let out a sigh of content and ruffled his natural hair before going on, "It looks like you directly copied them from a questionable internet source where anyone can edit the information."

Too bewildered to speak I looked down at the page he was writing on. Stupid me. He hadn't flipped through it at all, staying in the same place I was. Lines of Mariya's neat handwriting flitted throughout the page, crossing out things I've written or replacing them with another symbol. "I—well…" I blinked before finding my voice, "Well that's exactly what I did. I was trying to study."

A disgusted snort reached my ears. "Typical dumbass behavior," he muttered. Mariya was splayed out on his bed which was only two or three yards from mine. While the dorm room was generous in space considering it was a dorm room, the lack of privacy had been quite difficult in the beginning. Thankfully there is a bathroom inside our room so I always change in there. But the idea of undressing so close to the proximity of a male still flusters me at times. And the fact that we use the same toilet…the same shower…My wrists and neck are starting to burn wildly from the mere thought of it all.

Strangely enough, we have gotten more comfortable in each other's presence—if you could call it that. In the beginning of the year, Mariya's saccharine falsetto would still be used inside our room if it was just us two. If Matsurika, who happens to be right next door and owns a copy of our dorm key (but has a strange penchant of coming in through the window), was there he would drop the act. Most of the time, we didn't really talk much.

Slowly, he began to drop it as the months passed and I proved to be nothing more than an amoeba of a threat to his "stellar student" persona. Unfortunately another trend that followed that was an increased interest in making my life hell. If I had thought Mariya was an aggravating, exasperating, terrifying person in April, then he's even more so now six months later.

He bugs me every moment he can. Trailing a finger down my arm while hissing death threats into my ear, smacking my head for saying something idiotic and relating me to an obscure species of one-celled eukaryotes, sending Father Kanae on me just for laughs, making me do menial tasks when Matsurika isn't there… Speaking of which, besides in class or in the hallways, Matsurika isn't in our room as often as she was before.

I suppose it makes sense. There was no need for her to be around since Mariya already has a slave close by. And as much as I hate to admit it, whatever splinters of a spine I had were shattered with Mariya's arrival into my life. He could order me to prance around in a cow suit before jumping off a cliff and I would probably do it. Look at what I've been reduced to. Maybe that protozoan comment wasn't that far off then.

"Hey." Mariya's voice suddenly cut into my thoughts. Still sitting where I was on the floor but now in a cross-legged position, I turned to him. He was lying on his side, head propped up with a hand. It wasn't weird to see him without the wig but still with his uniform on. His hair cut was more or less the equivalent of a bluntly cut bob, long bangs skimming his eyebrows. If Mariya chose to go without the wig, he would still look quite feminine although a bit more edgy. "If you're not gonna study, draw me a bubble bath," he drawled before lying down on his back, "My beautiful body needs to be pampered."

With a curt sigh, I grabbed my notebook and took it with me into the bathroom. Seriously, for someone who proclaims to hate crossdressing, he's a bit too concerned with his appearance. Or maybe he secretly does enjoy it? I smirked at the thought. Well, though his twin Shizu did clean up nicely as a guy, there definitely was a more feminine touch in the Shidou sibling's looks. Mariya was androgynous whether he liked it or not.

I turned both hot and cold water dials on in the tub, fiddling around with them so the water came out warm. Pulling out an ornate purple bottle that said "Bath Time Bubbles", I set it on the sink and took a seat on the toilet lid. It was going to take a while for the tub to fill up and I needed some alone time. Turning to where I left off, I continued:

_I apologize, Death Note, as I was rudely interrupted by the Crossdesser-That-Must-Not-Be-Named. He came incredibly close to finding out the true intentions of this notebook. As I plan to live until 87, I cannot let him read on any further. _

_Anyways, about all those things I listed above. It would be nice if I could do a single one of them, but the problem is that Mariya will know it's me. Who else dislikes the Princess of the Freshmen Year? I might be able to pin it onto Matsurika but even she has some loyalty to Mariya. _

_It's nice to dream, I suppose. _

_Oh! Something interesting I've begun to notice. While I complain about Mariya touching me and all that, the effects aren't nearly as severe anymore. When we first started rooming, he just had to swipe a finger across my hand and hives would burst out. I would have to run to the infirmary and lie about some allergy I have to pen ink to get some anti-itching cream. (And now I can't ever use pens again unless it's in the privacy of my room. Woe is Kanako.)_

_Now, while a singe swipe does produce the same effects, the hives are less irritating and not as abundant. I've hated boys practically all my life with the exception of my father, of course. And a few cousins. I never get hives when they come in contact with me. I deeply care for those males but then again I also live with one and meet up with the others frequently throughout the year. I'm no rocket scientist, but Dr. Miyamae (insert glasses and lab coat here) speculates that due to living with Mariya for so long, I'm almost becoming immune to his masculinity. _

_Which is great because then he can't hang that over my head! _

_I suppose you're also wondering why I dislike the male species so much, eh? Well, settle down and let me tell you a story. I didn't always. I was a little chubby as a child and I started my entry into womanhood early in elementary school. My mother apparently was well-endowed in the chest area (or as Mariya likes to call them, bags of fat) and I was blessed with her assets at the age of 10 or so. In addition to that, I started growing off my fat and stood at 5' 5" when I was just 11. _

_Boys treated me as if I were a creature not from this planet. They made remarks about how my chest looked like melons were attached to it and how I was as tall as the Tokyo Tower, Mt. Fuji, the Eiffel Tower (thanks Matsurika), T-Rex, their brother, a Northern Californian Redwood tree, etc. I've heard it all. _

_As I got older, boys started teasing me for different reasons. They wanted to…touch things. When I was 12, I had a huge crush on a boy in my class and when he asked me out, I said yes. After our first date in the McDonald's right by our school, he walked me home. Before I reached the elevator to my family's apartment he stopped me. He asked me now that the first date was over if he could squeeze my "tits". _

_I shouted no and ran upstairs, not even bothering with the elevator. But the next day at school word got around that I did let him and all the guys wanted to take me on a "date". Most of my friends were disgusted with me. Only a few of them saw that I was telling the truth when I said nothing happened. After school, I went home and cried into my pillow all night. _

_So you can see, Death Note, I have plenty reason to hate, despise, spit on males. There are more stories that I can tell you but I don't really like thinking about th-_

My foot grazed water and I knew something was off. Alarmed, I looked up to find the bathtub overflowing. Tossing the notebook and pen aside I quickly turned off the knobs then opened the drain to let out a little water. There were many towels in the cabinets so I used a couple to absorb the water on the floor. "Ugh, stupid Mariya assigning me to do these things," I muttered, getting down onto my knees and wiping.

"What was that you rodent?" Gasping, I turned around to find Mariya leaning against the open doorway, appearing rather irritated. He stepped inside the small bathroom further, hazel eyes slowly taking in the scene.

I didn't even hear him come in. Hurriedly I threw the towels into the laundry basket and stood up, wringing my hands together. "That is—I didn't—When did you—," I stuttered. Mariya ignored me and plucked the purple bottle off the sink. With a grace I didn't realize that could be achieved just by opening bottles, he poured the liquid into the tub.

Flicking a hand at the bath, he ordered, "Mix it around. I want it nice and bubbly." I crouched onto my knees. Swishing the water around this way and that, it didn't take long for the bubbles to nearly overflow the tub. Mariya was seriously excessively feminine for a guy. The last time I took a bubble bath was when I was ten and that's because my sister and I would love to play together. We would grab our plastic ships and aquatic animals and dolls to create stories with them.

If Matsurika were here she might get away with a snarky jab or two. That would have been thoroughly amusing. I on the other hand would probably get my head dunked in the toilet. Sighing, I got onto my feet, wiping my wet hands on a nearby towel. "All done," I said. Turning around, I screamed.

Mariya had just finished taking off his fake boobs which were haphazardly thrown into the sink. (I'm surprised they didn't explode at the impact.) His bra hung over the counter, simple, white, and modest—the complete opposite of him. The cream-colored short sleeved dress shirt, brown vest, and bright blue bow that comprised of the spring uniform was hung on a door hook. Mariya was grumbling under his breath, untying the strings of his corset. Maybe he was used to me shrieking at his presence, but whatever the reason he ignored me and kept tugging at the garment choking his waist.

This was one of the few times Mariya decided to undress in front of me. The first was when he forgot to lock the bathroom door and I walked in on him. The second was…well now. What was he planning on doing to me? I felt frozen in place, watching as his nimble fingers discarded the corset onto the floor. He was just about to lower the zipper on his knee-length skirt when I cried out, "St-stop!" Mariya complied, glancing up at me with a bored expression on his face. "At least let me leave before you undress," I went on, feeling my cheeks heat up, "You're a guy and I'm a girl and—"

The zipper lowered. I gulped. "And so what?" he asked, a devilish smirk crawling up his face. The skirt dropped to his ankles and he left it on the floor, stepping out of the pool of fabric. I will not look down. I will not look down.

Dammit.

Well, that answered the mental question I really didn't want to find out the answer to: he wears briefs. I know he wears boxers during the winter and fall because the uniform changes so that the skirt hits mid-calf. Since it was so low, there was little chance of it flying up from a breeze or a student catching a glimpse of anything under if they happened to be walking behind him on the stairs (as I try to do with all the other beautiful, _actual_ girls in this school.) I suppose it would be impractical to attempt to wear feminine underwear, so he settled for the next best thing.

They were rather…snug. And blue. I quickly shifted my eyes to a spot over his shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. "Is the yuri-girl embarrassed?" his husky voice purred, taking a few steps closer.

Moving away from the tub, I slowly walked over to the wall closest to the door, trying to keep as far away from his as possible. "Th—this isn't funny," I quickly looked at his face (which was practically giddy from my discomfort) and concentrated on a spot on the toilet opposite from me.

He ventured even closer.

There was only a few feet separating us and I was still no where close to the door. Damn these claustrophobically tiny bathrooms. Isn't there an escape chute somewhere here to Switzerland? "I did say I was going to penetrate you somewhere one time or another didn't I?" he trailed off suggestively, cocking a blonde brow upwards. His lips curled into a feral grin. "What about now?"

I felt my heart stop before sinking down into my stomach in defeat. My fingers clutched onto the long-sleeved pajama shirt I wore, my knuckles whitening from my tight grip. The wall behind me must have had a mold of my body at this point from the way I tried to dig into it, hoping I would go through. Mariya looked beastly and I was not eased by the fact that I was his prey.

Something clawed at the back of my throat—something primal and surging with energy. It was unwelcome, uncomfortable, and unknown. "Seriously, stop it," I snapped at him warningly. Where did that angry voice even come from? He looked unfazed at my words. "Mariya, I won't tell you again—"

And with that, I was trapped.

Amber swarmed my vision. I turned my face away from him, uncomfortable with Mariya being only inches away from me. My eyes trailed over his arms, both of which encased the sides of my head. It was odd that he was shorter than me yet so incredibly intimidating. He came only up to my nose in the beginning of the year. Now, though, I see he has reached my eyes.

I felt his warm breath tickle the shell of my ear. "I don't remember," he said quietly, one of his hands moved to grasp my chin tightly, forcing me to look into his eyes, "allowing you to call me by my first name." The tips of our noses were almost brushing. I couldn't breathe. I felt the familiar pricks arise on my skin, a sure indicator of hives but I stayed silent. "And I _certainly_ don't like being patronized by someone like you," Mariya said, brushing a thumb over my lower lip. "So," he let go of me very suddenly, his voice turning cold, "What shall I do with you?"

I couldn't say anything.

I felt fingers brush over my shoulder, but I didn't move because I knew they weren't there.

_Don't worry Kana-chan. It'll feel good, I promise._

They ran down my arm, barely there, like a whisper.

_What will sempai?_

Smoothing over the small of my back, pulling me closer.

_Just trust me. I'll make it feel good I—_

I closed my eyes. The world was silent. We stayed like that for a very long time and I listened to the low hum of the bathroom, the occasional muffled, high-pitched voice that spoke from the other room or from the hallway, the inhale and exhale of Mariya's breaths. Eventually, he let out a curt sigh and motioned to the door. "Just leave so I can take my bath in peace," he said. I opened my eyes.

I didn't need to be told twice.

I shut the door behind me as quietly as I could and sat on my bed. The clock read 6:00 P.M., and it would be another thirty minutes until dinner was served. I didn't feel very hungry so I got underneath the covers and closed my eyes.

I didn't feel like anything at all, really.

* * *

And that's it! As you can see, it's completely different and so will the next chapters.

Tell me what you think and please leave a review! :)


	2. 2 Delicious Discoveries

Sorry for the unforgivably long update!

I got caught up with college applications and school and ugh.

I can't guarantee regular updates. Hopefully it'll quicken to once a month...

For those of you that reviewed and read this story, thank you so much for sticking with me! :)

You guys are the best!

* * *

The clock read 2:57 A.M. when I woke up. My covers felt too heavy and warm for my body, and I sighed silently in relief as cool air hit my body. I was drenched in sweat. My bed felt uncomfortably sticky and I sat up cautiously, warily staring at Mariya's slumbering figure.

I raised my hand to rub my eyes, letting out a soft yawn when my fingers brushed something unfamiliar. Gently touching my cheeks, I realized they were wet. 'Tears?' I wondered, staring down at my fingertips bewilderedly, 'Have I been crying?'

The room felt strangely cold to me. My covers sat right next to me, their warmth usually alluring but at the moment I wasn't swayed. The night was silent-completely silent save for the soft, slow breaths of Mariya. My eyes kept drifting to the boy sleeping on the other side of the room. Whenever I blinked, red swarmed my vision again, and I shivered.

An uncomfortable tingle ran along my chest and the side of my arms. My skin felt like it was on fire, the flames licking my flesh away, trying to see bone. I bit my lip in pain and wrapped my arms around my knees, ducking my head in between them. The room was swaying back and forth and I shut my eyes tightly, whimpering lightly.

The walls of my room started to move forward, closing in on me. They grew to be a hundred feet tall, swaying and lurching as if they would collapse on me any second. I felt as if I was perpetually hanging in mid air. My mind waited for the fall but I couldn't tell which way was up or down because the world wouldn't stop moving.

And suddenly, I saw myself from far away.

I was trapped.

Fossilized in an endless sea of crimson.

I gasped out loud, opening my eyes and scrambling off the bed. My breaths came out hard and heavy as I staggered towards the door. My hands shook as I turned the doorknob and I jumped when a voice interrupted me.

"Where are you going?" A black figure shifted in bed and started to sit up. It wasn't anything like his usual voice—it sounded tired, hoarse, and confused.

The doorknob almost broke underneath my grip. My lips felt dry. "Nowhere," I said my voice cracking. Cleaning my throat, I said the first thing that came to mind, "Just—just going jogging."

There was a creak, the mattress springs groaning under his body. The black figure swung his legs over the edge and stood up slowly. "Bullshit," he hissed, sounding more like his usual self, "You would never." He took quick steps forward, practically lunging towards me. "Now what the hell are you—"

I was out of the room before he could finish. I ran as fast as I could, not caring if the sound of my bare feet pounding against the carpeted floor woke any of my other dorm mates or—God forbid—God herself. My mind was blank but my legs seemed to know where they needed to go. It was even darker outside than in the room. My feet felt the rough texture of cement and gravel underneath my feet, the wisps of grass that tickled my toes. I walked for what felt like forever before stopping in front of the sanctuary.

The sanctuary is one of Ame no Kisaki's most beautifully designed rooms. The ceilings were as high as heaven itself, the walls curving to meet at a point at the very apex of it all. Stained glass windows covered almost every inch of the walls. The rows of plush red pews backed with mahogany wood seemed endless. I wiggled my toes, the tiled floor feeling pleasantly cool against my bare feet. I walked down the center aisle, my eyes fixated on the enormous gold cross hanging at the very front of the room.

I took a seat on the left side. Next to the cross, directly in front of me was a large painting of a weeping Jesus. The crown of thorns punctured his temple, the drops of blood standing out clearly as they rolled down the sides of his pale face. His eyes were wide and brown, glistening with unshed tears as he stared upwards, hands folded in prayer. He looked to be in immense pain, as if the burden of all our sins were eating him from the inside out.

I stared at the painting for a very long time before I started to cry.

* * *

When I woke up, my back and neck ached. My mattress suddenly turned to stone overnight and my pillow and blanket had disappeared as well. Wait, no, that wasn't right. Blinking slowly I realized I wasn't in my room but sprawled out on the floor of the sanctuary.

'Good morning, Jesus,' I thought, rubbing my eyes. There was a small analog clock that hung near the painting. 8:53 A.M. it read. I groaned, leaning my head against the pew behind me. Not only had I missed breakfast, but I was late for class as well. First period started at 8:30 in the morning. And it was just my luck that we didn't have morning service today. Morning service (which was from 8:00 to 8:30) alternated with morning homeroom every other day.

I had no desire to run into any of my classmates or teachers while still dressed in my pajamas. It took a while, but I made it back to the Second Girl's Dormitory, surprisingly not even running into Dorm's Mistress. As I reached into my pocket for the key to open the door, I realized I didn't have any pockets-that and the fact that the key was still in the room.

Groaning, I smacked my head against the door. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," I muttered, flinching at the impact, "Now I have to wait until Mariya gets back from cla—"

The door swung open and I stumbled inside, almost falling flat on my face. Mariya shut it behind me and gave me a vehement glare.

"What are you—"

It feels as though I'm being constantly cut off by Mariya, I realized with mild annoyance. "I was about to go to class," he snapped, "When I realized my idiot of a roommate left this—" his hands held my dorm key, the poor thing about to snap from his hold on it, "in the room. Now," he cocked his head to the side, tapping his foot, "just where were you last night?"

I shifted my weight back and forth, averting his gaze. "I told you, I was jogging."

Mariya shot me a deadpan look. "You wouldn't jog unless it was to run after a vagina and a pair of boobs. And I doubt any girls were running outside in the middle of the fucking night."

I stayed silent. Pig-headed, stubborn Mariya didn't budge either. His intense gaze was starting to break me down. "Look," I said, letting out a deep sigh, "you're late and I'm here so why don't you just go to class?" Mariya didn't move. "I needed some air to clear my head," I said quietly, "Can we please drop this?"

Mariya dropped the key onto my desk and brushed past me, slamming the door behind him. I trudged over to my bed and sat down. Tugging my discarded blanket towards me, I lied down. The mattress clung to every curve of my body. Very different from the tiled sanctuary floor, I noted. My eyes started to close.

I didn't feel like doing anything. I didn't feel like moving. I didn't feel like eating. And I certainly didn't feel like going to class.

Unable to fall asleep, I stayed in bed, one question persisting in my mind:

What was I running away from?

My eyes slowly blinked open at the sound of insistent knocking. It certainly couldn't be Mariya or Matsurika, so I wondered who could possibly be at the door. The odd half-human half-beast shaped analog clock above my head read 12:30 P.M. I was surprised I slept for so long.

Since it was around lunch time, it actually was possible that Mariya was at the door. Perhaps he wanted to get something from the room and uncharacteristically forgot the key. Or maybe it was even one of my friends from 2-A who wanted to know if I was all right. At the latter thought, I smiled, perking up instantly.

I could practically hear Sachi's bubbly voice, Yuzuru's demure one, and Kiri's no-nonsense tone behind the door. When I swung it open, however, I came face to face with a person I least expected to see. "Ueda- sensei," I said, blinking. Ueda-sensei was my math teacher who taught our class fourth period, which was right before lunch. "Please come in."

She was a wiry woman in her mid-fifties. Her long, graying hair was tied back in a low ponytail, swishing down to the middle of her back. Black-rimmed glasses framed her face, making her crinkly brown eyes look sharp and alert. "Hello Kanako," Ueda-sensei said as I closed the door behind her. I ushered her to take a seat by the desk. "I noticed you weren't in class today for the test."

….Test?

I gasped. "I'm so sorry Ueda-sensei," I cried, bowing so quickly my brain whiplashed against the back of my head, "I completely forgot. I would have gone to class if I had remembered but I…" I trailed off, not really knowing what my excuse was.

Seeming to read my mind, Ueda-sensei appraised me, taking in my appearance. "Are you ill, Kanako? I didn't come to berate you for your absence. You know my policies—you can take the make up test the next time you're back in class." Her eyes grew a bit softer. "I came to see if you were all right. You always seem to be going to the sick bay and such."

"I'm not sick," I admitted slowly.

"Then what's wrong?" Ueda-sensei asked, "You don't seem like your usual cheerful self."

I picked at a loose thread in my blanket, unraveling it for a bit before wrapping it around my finger and tugging at it hard. It fell to the ground. "I don't really know what's wrong with me," I said quietly.

Ueda-sensei leaned forward a bit, resting her hands on her knees. "Does it have anything to do with my class, by chance?"

"Ah, not really," I said blushing, "Though now that you mention it…I am struggling."

She nodded lightly. "I was going to talk to you about this earlier and it kept slipping my mind. Your test scores aren't as high as they could be. You do fine on the homework but I think you get either confused or nervous while taking tests."

"Yes, that's true."

Ueda-sensei let out a humming noise, almost contemplative. "How do you feel," she said slowly, "about having a tutor? You could meet up as many times as you need and it'll be free because it's a student."

The idea never struck me before. "That sounds great," I said, smiling.

"There's a third year who is brilliant in math that is in my higher up class. She was and still is my best student. You might know her—that is, Ishida-san?"

"Ryuuken-sama?" I cried, practically dancing with glee.

Ueda-sensei's lips twitched. "That's a yes, I see. I'll tell her you're okay with it then?"

I nodded fervently. "Yes, of course! Thank you so much!"

Getting up from the chair she glanced at the clock. "Do you think you'll feel better by tomorrow?"

"I think so," I said.

"I'll give you the test then, ok?" Ueda-sensei put a hand on my shoulder. "If there's anything that is troubling you, my office is always said," she said kindly, "I think, however, that you should go see Fumi-sensei before today ends. She's very easy to talk to." Ueda-sensei paused for a moment before continuing, "Actually, I'm going there now to pick up something. Would you like to walk there with me?"

I wondered how Fumi-sensei would be able to fix anything when I didn't even know what was wrong with me. Regardless, I nodded my head. "I'll just change out of my pajamas and be right out," I told Ueda-sensei, who smiled and exited the room. Reaching into my closet I pulled out my uniform and hastily put it on. Before starting as a student at Ame no Kisaki, I had planned on buying new and pretty clothes to wear on weekends or when I'm not in class (to aid in seducing my female friends!) My assumption that a private school would run differently than a public one concerning student appearances was wrong. Ame no Kisaki's girls still wear their uniform on weekends, and if not, they choose to go about freely in their pajamas thanks to the non-judgmental personality of the student body. Of course Mariya would be one of the few exceptions, owning more costumes, kinky nightwear, dresses, and Lolita outfits than the Queen of England.

Outside, Ueda-sensei was standing patiently by the door. "Ready?" she asked. I smoothed down my skirt once more and followed her as we began walking to the teacher's offices. The teachers worked together in a communal room, bustling with the sound of light chatter. Because our school was so small, Ame no Kisaki was able to cram all of their staff in this room. Fumi-sensei's cubicle, I suppose you could call it, was located near the far left. As Ueda-sensei and I approached her desk, Fumi-sensei was reading a thin novel, engrossed in the pages.

Ueda-sensei coughed lightly and caused Fumi-sensei to jump up with a start. Pink dusting her cheeks, the younger teacher quickly put down the book and turned to us. Her signature soft smile was directed straight at me, causing my heart to stop from joy. She was so cute, I thought with a sigh. "Hello there Ueda-sensei, Kanako," Fumi-sensei said, her eyes crinkling from her smile, "How may I help the two of you?"

"I wanted to inform you that all the necessary files have been arranged—for what we were talking about before. Also, I have rescheduled Kanako's math test for tomorrow. She was out sick today, you see," Ueda-sensei said.

"Thank you so much, that's wonderful," Fumi-sensei replied, "I'll get to that around tomorrow. Hopefully everything will go well." Ueda-sensei smiled in response and bowing her head, excused herself. "Now," Fumi-sensei reached over and pulled a nearby chair up to her desk, gently patting the seat. I listened to her instructions albeit hesitantly. "Is everything all right, Kanako? I did notice you were absent today. You haven't been sick in a while, if I'm correct," Fumi-sensei said.

Though the prospect of talking to the ever adorable and busty Fumi-sensei was appealing, it was the subject we had to broach that made me prefer the company of my alarm clock. Ueda-sensei had told me to talk to Fumi-sensei—but about what, exactly? And how, when even I didn't really know what was going on? A warm hand covered mine, which had tightened into tense, curled fists, crinkling the material of my skirt. I looked up and Fumi-sensei's eyes were so large and brown, her mouth turned up in a little smile. "You can tell me anything, you know," she said. My fists gently relaxed at the mellow tone of her soothing voice, "anything that's going on at all, whatever troubles you may be going through right now."

Her gaze, though soft, seemed to pierce through me. Shifting in my seat, I concentrated on the computer behind her. The screen was blank "I'm not really—" I begin, then stop, though not really knowing why, "It's just that-" A strange pressure starts to cave into my chest. It gets hard to breathe and I close my eyes. My hands grasp tightly together, my fingers digging deeply into the space between my knuckles. "I don't know," I whisper out, bending my head down, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"That's okay," Fumi-sensei said softly, bending her head closer to me, "Just tell me what you think."

I looked up into her kind, patient smile and nodded my head slowly. "I've been having nightmares," I murmured, "I'll wake up screaming sometimes or with my heart racing really fast. And I'm so afraid, but I don't know what. I can't sleep properly anymore."

"When did your nightmares start?" she asked.

It was all such a haze to me. Furrowing my brows, I replied, "I think this week."

Fumi-sensei let out a humming noise and settled back into her seat, head titled to the side. "What do you think triggered them to start now?" My mind couldn't even distinctly recall the events that happened this week. I had perved on my English teacher, gushed about Sachi's cuteness in my head, and got insulted by Mariya multiple times…It didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. Actually, thinking about it now, this all seemed like a lot of fuss for a couple of nightmares. I mean, people had nightmares all the time, didn't they? It wasn't anything particularly strange.

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head, "But it's nothing, really."

My words didn't seem to placate my teacher. Biting her lip, she scrunched her eyebrows together, expression growing grim. "Kanako, I know you may feel like they're just nightmares, but trust me when I say nightmares aren't healthy," she said, in the most serious tone I have ever heard her use, "Now, I'm not qualified to really help you in manners like this, but I have someone that I always talk to when I feel troubled."

I paused. "A…a she?" I asked.

Fumi-sensei's eyes widened momentarily before she nodded. "Yes," the dark-haired teacher said, "You definitely know her. She's our school nurse, Tonomura-sensei. She was a psychology major and used to be a clinical psychologist before coming here"

"A clinical…psychologist?" At those words I laughed nervously, "That's a bit too much, isn't it?"

"Not at all," she assured, "It's better to have someone who knows what they're doing rather than an amateur like me. I know very little on the effects of nightmares. I'm a teacher after all," Fumi-sensei said, smiling. "But it's only if you want this."

Having a clinical psychologist talk to me made it seem as though I were crazy or something. My problems couldn't certainly be that serious. But—but a strange nagging feeling in me had the desire to meet with Tonomura-sensei. Especially since it's been so long since I last saw that pixie haired beauty. Ooh, speaking of which, I could fulfill a doctor's coat fantasy since I don't get to see her very often. Yum. "All right, I want to," I said, grinning widely.

The woman sitting in front of me blinked and then smiling, reached over to grab her cell phone. "Let me go see Tonomura-sensei if she's free over the weekend," Fumi-sensei said, getting up from her seat, "I'll be right over there. It won't take long." She exited the teacher's room in a hurry. As I waited for her to return, my eyes scanned over the room. Each teacher got their own little cubicle. Some of them were typing away at their computers or grading papers while others conversed together.

Fumi sensei's desk was by far the cutest of them all. She had lead pencils decorated with hearts and animals, pens in bright, bold colors, and a fuzzy light blue cover for her desktop computer shaped like a bear. How fitting, I thought, smiling to myself. Scattered post it notes in pastel colors were stuck onto the top of her desk. Our homeroom teacher was known for her forgetfulness and heavily depended on her planner and sticky notes. My eyes scanned over the soft greens and yellow papers. What sort of things would a teacher memo? It wasn't really a breach of privacy. If they were really important things, she wouldn't have left them out in the open.

They were fairly ordinary things and nothing too incriminating or confidential. Apparently, Fumi-sensei had a pet named "Bari" she had to pick up from the vet this Saturday at 12. There was going to be a teacher's meeting next week after school at 4 p.m. discussing school trips (Yes! At last!) and student bullying (Huh, I didn't realize this was an issue in our school—wait…I take that back.) Fumi-sensei had to remember to call her mother Sunday to wish her a happy birthday and mail her gift today and Mariya had come in to talk to Fumi-sensei about Kanako having issues. Everything seemed fairly ordinary.

…What. I ripped the last sticky note off of Fumi-sensei's desk, bringing it right up to my eyes, scanning the cutely written words once more. "Mariya came in, talked about Kanako, sleeping problems, serious question mark, discuss later," I read under my breath. This made absolutely no sense. Maybe it was another Mariya, after all Mariya was a pretty common name nowadays. And heck, maybe it was a different Kanako, for all I knew. Maybe Mariya had a weird fetish for making girls named Kanako go through a living hell. What I should do now is find this other Kanako and comfort the poor child as we heal from Mariya's scathing wounds together in peaceful harmony.

Lightly pattered footsteps caused me to pick my head up. My eyes widened in surprise as I hastily stuck the note back on the desk. I got up quickly, bending at the waist and bowing deeply at Fumi-sensei, who had returned from her phone call. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to invade your privacy," I cried. My cheeks felt as though they were burning as I peeked up at Fumi-sensei's face.

Her puzzled expression softened into amusement as she took a seat. I hastily sat down as well, not wanting to be a higher level than her. I was tall as it is. "No, I actually wanted to tell you about it," Fumi-sensei said, picking up the note, "Shidou Mariya, right? That's your roommate?" I nodded slowly, my eyes flicking from the note to my homeroom teacher's face. Fumi-sensei's smile widened and explained, "She came in earlier this morning to tell me what was going on. Mariya was incredibly worried about you. She said you're normally so cheerful and that you didn't seem well as of late."

No way. This just wasn't possible. I couldn't think of any reason why Mariya would come all the way to Fumi-sensei to inform her about my nightmares. It just didn't make any sense. Fumi-sensei continued, "I talked to Tonomura-sensei and she said she would be free tomorrow morning at 10 to meet you. The two of you would meet in the nurses' office, where she always is. Is that all right with you?"

"Uhh, yes, that's fine," I said quickly, "Thank you for everything Fumi-sensei. I appreciate it a lot." I got up and bowed deeply once more before briskly exiting the room. Mariya went to Fumi-sensei. Mariya talked to Fumi-sensei. About me. The world rushed past me, faces blurring, scenery melding into colors. I stopped in front of our dorm door, bending forward to catch my breath. There were too many questions left unanswered and I knew only one person behind that door could answer them all. I reached for the key in my skirt pocket and—

MOTHERFUCKER.

I left it in the room again.

* * *

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